


Flames Go Looking For Survivors

by Hecate



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Not a Love Story, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Civil War (Marvel), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 05:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16011149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/pseuds/Hecate
Summary: The war with Thanos is over. Tony and the other Avengers try to live through the aftermath.["I can't reach Pepper," Tony says to Steve, and it's the first time he speaks to him after Bucky and the Accords and everything going wrong in Siberia."Bucky is gone," Steve replies, his voice eerily calm.]





	Flames Go Looking For Survivors

"I can't reach Pepper," Tony says to Steve, and it's the first time he speaks to him after Bucky and the Accords and everything going wrong in Siberia.

"Bucky is gone," Steve replies, his voice eerily calm.

Tony looks at him, looks at him but doesn't quite see him. Not like he used to do, back when there was hope and something else between them, something quiet and real, something that always felt like it was ready to _grow_.

It's gone now, shrivelled up into something ugly and sharp, old blood in his mouth, bruises all over his body, memories of a bunker and the grainy footage of a car and a road and his parents. His mom. And Bucky. 

And this new thing, this feeling, it's mean, unforgiving. And Tony thinks that maybe he should feel sorry for Steve because he lost Bucky again, lost him after everything, and Steve deserves something like pity, something like forgiveness.

But Tony hasn't forgiven him.

He thinks he never will.

And then there is Barnes, _was_ Barnes, the man Hydra captured and tortured and made into a thing, a monster, this man that never stood a chance and never had one. Tony knows that Barnes deserves his pity in so many ways Steve doesn't, no matter that he is the monster that murdered his mom.

But Tony doesn't feel sorry for him. He just feels bleak and blank when he thinks of Barnes, even his bitterness gone.

It's been a long time since he had anything in common with Steve.

He never wanted it to be something like this.

~*~

Tony calls Happy, and the phone rings for a long time. And Tony thinks, 'No,' and he sees ashes settling on the ground somewhere at S.I., sees them spread apart by confused footsteps, sees them blow away.

Then, Happy answers his phone, and he says, "Boss?" and Tony breathes into the relief of hearing his voice.

"Yeah," he replies, and his heart is still beating at an unsteady speed, still hurts.

"Thank God. I thought you might be dead," Happy says, and Tony can hear it, can hear the fear in his voice, and he thinks that Pepper felt this way when he flew after the spaceship, and this, too, is painful.

"I don't do dying," he tells Happy. "It's not my style. I do explosions and the acquisition of nifty energy sources."

A swallowed laugh, and it sounds painful. Tony wants to ask Happy if he's okay. But he doesn't. He knows the answer.

"Are you taking care of my stuff?" he asks instead.

"Of course, Boss." A pause. Then: "The bots seem to miss you."

Tony swallows. "Yeah."

"When will you come home?"

"Don't know yet," Tony replies. "Might be a while. You have to hold the fort for me while I'm gone."

"Always," Happy says.

Later, Tony is grateful that Happy didn't mention Pepper.

~*~

He stays in Wakanda.

They all do.

Maybe it's their past that keeps them together, memories of a time when they were almost friends, when they almost trusted each other. The bright image of Schawarma joints and breakfasts at the tower, the lights of the labs dancing around them when Tony or Bruce showed them something, the sound of laughter, fond and light.

Or maybe they don't have anywhere else to go.

~*~

“He's gone,” Tony says, phone pressed against his ear, eyes closed.

Peter's aunt doesn't answer.

Tony sits down on the ground, hits it, really, and he doesn't end the call.

After an eternity, he hears her crying.

~*~

The rest of the remaining Asgardian refugees arrive in the ruins of a spaceship, tired-eyed and hungry. Earth doesn't want them. They come from space, after all, and space took too much already.

Tony is too tired to argue for them.

Thor calls him useless, his hands balled into fists, a reminder of his losses, a promise of violence.

Tony agrees. He didn't save Peter and he didn't save Pepper, and if he couldn't do that, then useless is all he is.

Thor hits him.

It's Steve who puts himself between them then, Steve who hit Tony, too, who left Tony behind when he was down.

"Don't," he says, his back to Tony, one arm stretched out towards Thor, a peace offering, a frontier.

"Don't," Tony echoes later, after Thor is gone and Steve has turned to him, still reaching out for something, _Hoping_ for something. Tony has nothing left to give him.

Steve leaves him. It's nothing new.

They have a history of walking away from each other.

It's Rhodey who stands in front of the UN to speak for Thor's people, it's Rhodey who speaks of empathy and humanity and the grief Earth shares with the exhausted people still trapped in a steel grave in the sky. Earth takes them in.

Life trots on.

~*~

He doesn't quite remember the way back to Earth, remembers it only in sharp moments, Nebula's voice harsh in his ears, demanding nothing less of him than his survival.

There had been pain, bright seconds of it, and an exhaustion that seemed to pull his life out of his body, leaving him hollow. There had been dreams, too, of Peter, of a life in which Tony had been good enough to save him.

He still has the same dream.

And he wakes up screaming.

Sometimes, Steve is there when he opens his eyes. Tony never asks him why. Steve never offers a reason.

Sometimes it's Nebula, and it's a memory of their way through space. “You still see him die,” she says.

Tony nods.

“He should suffer for it,” Nebula goes on, and Tony knows she isn't talking about Peter.

“I don't think we can make your father suffer,” he replies.

A shrug, accompanied by the clicking of her shoulder. The sound is sharp in the darkness, wrong, and for a brief moment Tony thinks of Barnes.

"Do you want me to check your shoulder?" he asks Nebula, changing the topic. He doesn't want to talk about Thanos, and he sure as hell doesn't want to think of Barnes.

"Shuri already offered," Nebula says.

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Never figured you for a fan of the monarchy."

Nebula leaves.

~*~

Shuri is crowned, and there are no smiles when she accepts her new responsibilities, there is no joy in the room, and Tony doubts that there is any on the streets of Wakanda. Shuri is a queen now, and Tony thinks she doesn't want to be, thinks she wants to bury herself in blueprints and electricity, in innovation and progress.

He knows the feeling.

He buried the grief about his parents' death in more than just alcohol.

~*~

Ross calls him, and for a moment Tony is angry again, is furious because Ross gets to live and Pepper doesn't, Peter doesn't, and it's not fair. It's not _right_.

“You're with them,” Ross states.

Tony shrugs. “I'm with a lot of people.”

A dry snort, Ross not even pretending to be amused. “Because you're so popular.”

“Always was,” and Tony expects a cutting reply. Ross is surprisingly good with those.

But there is none, just a tired sigh, and Ross ending the call. Tony spends an hour staring at the place where his holographic projection stood, finds Shuri after.

"Ross knows they are here," he tells her. "But I don't think he'll be trouble."

Shuri accepts his words without protest.

~*~

“He was so relieved that you're alive,” Natasha says, and Tony knows that she is talking about Steve.

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

She looks at him, a once familiar softness to her eyes, and Tony thinks she still _sees_ him, still knows him. 

“You don't care about that, do you?” Natasha states.

Tony smiles at her. “I tried caring once. It was awful.” A pause, and he looks across the room where Steve stands with Okoye, a bend to his shoulder Tony has yet to get used to. "I don't think he cares about all that much these days."

"Atlas shrugged the world off," Natasha replies.

Tony huffs. "What's left of it."

~*~

Tony thinks of returning home, of living in empty rooms, between the traces of Pepper. He thinks of New York, emptier than it was.

He stays in Wakanda.

Thor leaves to be with his people. Rocket goes with him, the sight of him still jarring, still confusing.

Natasha makes her way to Clint. She kisses Tony before she goes, her lips soft against his cheek.

"I missed you," she says.

He nods, leaning into her for the briefest of moments. "I'm not angry with you anymore."

She laughs. "Is anger still a thing for you?"

Tony doesn't answer, doesn't know how. He watches her from a window as she walks out of the palace, sees Steve embrace her, his body looking oddly fragile. It's the distance, Tony thinks, but knows that it's something else.

Natasha's jet flies off quietly. When Tony takes his eyes off its ascent, he sees Steve looking at him.

Bruce follows Thor. Tony almost asks him to stay. And doesn't. Thor will be good for Bruce, and Tony, Tony isn't good for anyone.

~*~

Rhodey calls, and Tony doesn't answer the phone.

~*~

He works in Shuri's labs, uses her tech. She lets him.

"It's not like I have time for it," she says.

Tony reaches out, touches her shoulder. Says, "Make the time," and means _Take it_ , means, _Don't lose yourself in the demands of your country._

Shuri blinks. And Tony knows she is fighting tears.

He brings Friday into her labs, brings her into her palace. Attempts a lazy grin and says, "She's the third best assistant I ever had."

"Thanks, boss," Friday replies, her voice filling the room. "You're too kind."

Shuri laughs.

And Tony loves the sound of it.

~*~

Natasha calls them to tell them that Clint's family is gone. For a quiet moment, the world stands still yet again.

Tony thinks of a farm with kids in it, of a tractor, of green grass around the house.

Steve walks out of the room.

Tony turns to Natasha's holographic image and attempts a smile for no reason whatsoever. It falls apart.

"Is he..." he starts. And stops. Shakes his head, shakes off the thought that Clint could be okay, that anyone out there is okay. "Tell him I'm sorry," he says finally.

Natasha nods. "Of course." Her eyes are red.

Tony thinks someone should be touching her.

~*~

He talks with Bruce sometimes, conversations running in circles, science and politics. Sometimes, they speak about the raw things, the numb things, and for a few moments, Tony can let it happen.

The Asgardians are settling in.

Hulk is still hiding but Bruce can feel him sometimes, a curled-up presence in his mind, the shape of an angry fist beneath the skin of his open hand.

Thor is trying to be a good king. Is a good king.

Tony almost envies the both of them. They have a purpose again, Thor has his people, and Bruce has all the absences in Thor's life that somebody should fill.

All Tony has is his own failures and his grief.

And whatever is left of Steve. He tries to tell himself that he doesn't want it.

~*~

Steve stands in the middle of Tony's room, still, wide-eyed. The night and the artificial lights are painting with shadows all over his face, turning the lines and bones and skin into something new, something unknown.

Tony wants to touch him, wants to figure out which parts of Steve aren't broken, which parts he still knows from before.... _before_. Instead, he turns around and walks out of the room without a word.

Steve doesn't try to stop him. 

__

~*~

“We can find him,” Nebula had said back on Titan. “We can find him and we can kill him.”

Tony had stared at her, still so damn exhausted, his hands still covered in the ashes that had made up Peter just hours ago.

“Why?” he had asked. Everything was ashes and dust after all, what would finding Thanos, hurting Thanos, killing Thanos matter after they had lost the one battle that truly mattered?

Nebula's voice had gone flatter when she answered. "He doesn't deserve to live."

"Yeah," he had agreed. "Yeah."

She brought him home then. He still isn't quite sure why.

~*~

He calls Natasha.

They talk about nothing, their words just reassurance. _Yes, I'm still here. And so are you._

He doesn't tell her that he misses her, has missed her ever since she vanished from that hospital. She doesn't tell him that she missed him, too.

Clint is a dark, crumpled shape at the edge of the holograph.

Tony tries not to look at him.

~*~

Steve is running in looping circles around the palace, the rhythm of his feet hitting the ground never changing, the track he leaves behind growing more distinct with every passing day.

"No respect for the lawn," Tony says to Shuri. "It's an Avengers thing."

Shuri smiles, brief but fond. "So the Avengers still exist."

Tony startles. Stares at her. Says, after seconds stretch into something that feels like an eternity, "I don't know."

She touches his shoulder then, sure, confident, and says, "You should think about that."

Tony nods. Remembers, “We can damn sure avenge it”, thinks of Peter's ashes on a far-away planet. Forces himself not to think of Pepper.

~*~

Tony builds Nebula a suit. Because she is still angry, still furious, and there's murder in her eyes.

He builds it because he can.

Shuri joins him, her eyes scanning his designs, pointing out ways to improve them. He points out the flaws in her ideas, she counters them with better ones. They argue. The suit changes. Hours pass them by.

After, when the both of them return from blue lights and machinery to a country that needs its queen and an emptiness that doesn't quite fit Tony any longer, reality is sluggish, and it's _wrong_.

The suit fits Nebula perfectly.

~*~

Ross calls him. Tells him about a Hydra lab coming back to life, tells him about the chatter among the agencies, among the military heads and politicians.

Tony almost shrugs it off.

He's tired of Hydra, he's tired of fighting after he lost the war.

But Hydra killed his parents.

There are 3.8 billion people in this world.

And Nebula has a suit ready but nowhere to go.

So he finds Steve, and he takes to the sky again with Steve at his side, Nebula a silent shape at Tony's back. The quinjet is oddly unfamiliar around him and so is the battle, he and Steve out of rhythm and Nebula too angry to fit in with them.

Still, they win.

They fly the Hydra agents into the USA's waiting arms, and Ross pretends not to know that there is a terrorist and an alien waiting for Tony in the shadow of the jet. Tony goes along with it.

Wakanda welcomes him hours later, greens and yellows and blues, the city gleaming in the sunlight, the land spreading out like it wants to pretend that nothing is wrong. The traces of the battle are pockmarks on its skin. Tony looks at them, and he thinks it's better than looking at the streets of New York, less crowded than they used to be.

It's better than looking at the stars and searching for Titan.

~*~

"It felt like..." Steve says in some hallway, and Tony turns to him, sees _before_ on his face and shakes his head.

"No," he says, "it didn't."

Steve swallows, looks away. "It didn't."

Steve's fingers grazing the hem of Tony's sleeve, skin almost touching but not quite. "It was still ... nice."

Tony almost laughs at the choice of words, but the sound dies in his throat and wilts in his body. "It was," he says, and for a sharp moment, he imagines them all together again, a team so strong that neither snow nor rain, neither aliens nor robots could ever stop them.

He misses this strength.

He misses his team.

~*~

Days later, Steve is standing in his room again, arms at his side, face closed off.

It's easy to kiss him.

~*~

He calls Natasha the next time Ross demands his help, calls Bruce, too, and with him Thor.

Winning that battle is easier than winning the one before.

"They're not pardoned," Ross tells him after the mission, the jet already in the air again after they've brought in the villains of the day, American soil fading away quickly.

Tony shrugs, forgetting for a moment that Ross can't see him, that he called him without turning on the phone's camera, so they could all pretend that Ross doesn't know what's going on.

"Will the UN act on this?" he asks.

"The UN doesn't care as long as it's the Avengers that come into their country and they allowed them to do it." A quick silence. Then: "You are the Avengers. You and Colonel Rhodes."

Tony swallows and disconnects the line.

The others don't ask about the conversation.

They fly on in silence.

~*~

“What are you doing?” Natasha asks him before he drops her off with Clint.

Tony shrugs. “Playing hero,” he says, and he smirks when Natasha raises an eyebrow.

“Not what I meant,” she says, and there's a sharpness in her voice that could be anger, could be worry. Sometimes, it's hard to tell these feelings apart when it comes to Natasha.

“I know,” he agrees, and he looks over to Steve, sees how he tries not to listen in on them. “I don't know.”

“I figured,” Natasha says, and she doesn't turn around to look at them when she walks away from the quinjet.

Tony sees Clint in one of the farm's windows.

~*~

Steve fucks him, and he whispers Bucky's name into his skin.

Most nights, Tony dreams of Pepper.

~*~

He trains with Nebula, trading blows, and it reminds him of the first few times Natasha and him circled each other in the Avengers' practise ring, her steps light, her hits hard. Tony still remembers the tricks she taught him, still follows through with every punch he throws.

He ends up on the ground anyway, grinning up at Nebula with a bruise blooming on his cheek. She leans down to help him up, a familiar stiffness in the gesture, a familiar roughness to the touch of her hand.

"Let's go flying," he says, and she follows silently as he walks to their suits.

Above Wakanda, with familiar tech surrounding him and the world turning into a blue sky, he dances in circles all around her. It almost feels like it used to, it almost feels like he's home again.

Below, on the ground, Steve and Shuri are watching them. It takes Tony a while to notice.

~*~

Tony calls Pepper, and the phone rings and rings and rings, and he imagines a "Hi", imagines worry because he went into space, imagines anger fuelled by fear. And his heart, it stutters when there's a sound, the ringing stopping, and then a voice.

But it's not Pepper's, it's "The person you are trying to reach is unavailable", and he disconnects the line before the announcement reaches its end. Breathes in. Puts the phone away with careful hands. Gets up and walks to the window.

Wakanda is filled with lights. It's bright and gleaming, like hope, like the future.

And he can't reach Pepper.

~*~

Clint is with them on the next mission.

He doesn't talk.

Nobody speaks with him until they are on the ground and orders and warnings start flying around, until it's them and the enemy, a carbon copy of what used to be, all bright colors and fake promises. At some point, after taking a hit and before grabbing Clint to fly him out of danger, Tony calls Clint _Legolas_ again.

Later, the moment falls away, the five of them slumping in their seats, exhausted, their faces ashen with it. Tony flies them home. Thor clasps his shoulder before leaving the quinjet, Bruce's embrace is just as quick. Neither of them says goodbye.

At night, with his body aching in a familiar pain, Tony thinks they will never get back to what they used to have. He's not sure he would even want to. It hadn't been enough, after all.

~*~

Rhodey calls.

Tony answers.

"I could come with you on the next mission," Rhodey says.

Tony thinks of the others, thinks of Ross and the UN. "No."

A snort, disbelieving and maybe a bit aggravated. "Don't be an asshole, Tones."

Laughter flares up inside of Tony, an almost unfamiliar feeling, and he lets it, lets it out. Says, "I don't want you to get mixed up with this," and means _Maybe I can keep you out of this mess, maybe I can do that at least._

Rhodey is silent for a moment, then he sighs. "Tony."

"I know," Tony replies. And, "I miss you."

"Yeah," Rhodey agrees.

~*~

The sun is shining on Tony as he walks across one of the small yards that seem to be hidden in the nooks and crannies of the palace, plants climbing up the walls, birds swooping in before rising up again, their chatter loud and hoarse in the air. Steve's shield is digging into his shoulders and the small of his back, its shape not fitting his body, the weight of it odd, unbalancing him in a way the suit never did. But that's okay. He won't be dealing with it much longer.

He finds Steve on a low stone wall in the corner of the yard, sketching paper on his lap, pen in his hand, eyes far away. He still notices Tony when he approaches, putting away the sketches, flipping them over, the white of the blank pages alien between the colors of the yard.

"Hi," Steve says.

"Hi," Tony echoes.

They look at each other for a moment, silent and waiting. And Tony hates it, hates that the quiet moments with Steve are not comfortable anymore, are tense, have turned into a waiting game, the both of them watching and hoping the other one will break first.

He pulls the shield off of his back and pushes it in Steve's direction. Steve looks at it, his eyes downcast for a moment, before looking up at Tony again. He doesn't take it. "I thought it wasn't mine?"

Tony almost tells Steve not to be an asshole. But he swallows it down, looks straight at Steve and says, "It's not. But it's not worth anything to me."

Steve nods, replies, "A loan then," and there might be a small smile on his face.

Tony shrugs. "Sure."

He tells himself not to think about how much better the shield seems to fit Steve's hands.

~*~

Rocket comes with Thor and Bruce when Tony calls them for another mission, greeting Tony and the others with a careless wave before walking past them and into the palace.

Steve looks after him, looks to Thor then.

Thor shrugs. "He's not here to fight."

Later, walking to the quinjet with Steve by his side, Tony sees Rocket with Nebula. A talking raccoon and a blue robot woman, and neither of them is looking at the other. It's crazy how familiar that moment feels.

He finds Nebula after the mission, sits down next to her, hissing at the sharp stab of pain in his arm. They still haven't found their rhythm again out on the field and Clint had used one of the exploding arrows to close for comfort, the explosion rocking into Tony and throwing him into the side of a building.

"Did he come for extra snuggles?" he asks.

Nebula stares at him.

Tony smirks. Waits.

"He came to discuss ... constellations," she finally says, and she sounds tense, she sounds as if she's waiting for something.

Tony snorts. "Is this what aliens call it these days?"

Another blank look, and Tony leans back, closes his eyes. Says, "No, I know what you mean," and draws lines like roads on his injured arm.

~*~

"I think I loved him," Steve says, and it's dark and still around them.

Tony stares up at the sky when he answers, stares at a universe that is emptier than it's supposed to be, and he thinks of the sketches he found in Steve's room. Bucky, like he used to be, like Tony has seen him in so many photographs from the war, smiling brightly, looking at Steve as if he was his world and everything else.

"Yeah," he answers, "you probably did."

~*~

Nebula is gone.

So is Shuri.

Tony isn't surprised. He's envious, envious because the two of them still feel enough to go after Thanos, still _hope_ enough.

“They're gonna get themselves killed,” Steve says.

“Probably,” Tony agrees. Then, he sees Peter stumbling again, sees Peter falling on Titan's soil, falling into dust. “Or maybe they'll kill him and that changes ... something.” _Anything,_ he hopes, and doesn't say.

And he thinks of Atlas carrying the sky, and he thinks of four strong shoulders carrying the hopes of all the worlds Thanos destroyed. Thinks of Nebula and Shuri heading into a battle, filled with righteous fury and the memories of their dead siblings.

He thinks that no matter the end, their fight will be worth it.

And he remembers.

He remembers feeling that way.

~*~

Steve is sleeping in Tony's bed these days, when he sleeps at all. His nights are filled with turns, with a frown cutting deep lines into his skin, with a gasp and a cry and opening his eyes.

There is empty space between them.

Tony hardly ever tries to cross it, reaches out and touches Steve only fleetingly, fingers digging into his arms to pull him out of his personal hell, a quick caress against the hot skin of his face. Most of the time, he curls them together instead, falls asleep to the sound of Steve's worries and fears and nightmares, and he gets lost because he has his own dreams and they are just as cruel as Steve's.

"I'm sorry," Peter says.

"Tony," Pepper whispers.

He wakes up.

~*~

A few days gone by, and Tony misses Nebula, misses her quiet fury, the stiff way she held her body, held in all her anger and pain and all the things Thanos has done to her, taken from her. He misses that voice that kept on telling him to live, her words the breadcrumbs that brought him back to Earth.

He hopes for a chance to tell her. She would look so unimpressed.

~*~

There's a spaceship resting behind Shuri's home, a spaceship that once belonged to Groot. He left it behind with a careless comment when he went with Thor, something wild in his eyes, something crazy.

Tony thinks it held too many memories for Rocket.

He hasn't seen his bots in months.

Tony likes to walk around the spaceship, likes to take in the dirty hull, the strange shape. He likes to walk into it as well, likes to sit down in the pilot seat, close his eyes and get lost, for a few moments, in the promises that lie beneath the ship's skin.

Speed and distance, following the call he hasn't listened to ever since Peter had died.

There had been too many other loud things in his head.

But the voices of the dead are getting louder.

~*~

“I'm thinking about doing something stupid,” he texts Rhodey.

“Finally,” Rhodey replies. And, “Be careful.”

Tony laughs. It's loud in the hallway leading from his room to Steve's.

~*~

It's morning, the sun reaching through the window of his bedroom, landing on Steve's skin, making him look young and golden and peaceful and so many things he isn't anymore. Tony watches him for a while. Wonders if their story always went this way, has been this broken thing in every universe.

He wakes Steve up.

Steve blinks at him, eyes sleep-heavy, confused. “Tony?”

“Walk with me,” Tony says.

A frown, Steve sitting up slowly. “Now?”

Tony nods, says “Yes”, and gets up.

Steve follows, throws on yesterday's shirt and jeans. They are silent as they walk out of the room, the palace, and into the streets. It's still early and there are hardly any people around, the few they encounter nodding at them in greeting or passing them by with their eyes fixed on the streets, the ground, anything but them. Tony is used to it.

Tony leads Steve to what is left of the battlefield, stops at its edges, looking out at the field, looking at the green grass that attempts to hide the scars on its country. The sight is still as stifling as it had been the first time Tony saw it.

“I've been thinking,” Tony says, breaking the silence. “The girls had the right idea.”

He turns to Steve, waits for a reaction.

But Steve is just looking at him, waiting for him, and for some reason Tony is glad for his silence. “I think,” he says, and he takes a deep breath before he goes on, breathes out and, “I think we should go on a space vacation. All six of us together. Take in the sights, see some stars, find that damn asshole and kill him. Possibly with fire.”

Steve grins, and it's brittle and broken and sharp, teeth glittering between his lips. Says, "Language," and he reaches out, his fingers resting against Tony's shoulder for a moment. Then, he turns and he walks back to the palace.

Tony follows.

On their way back, with Steve slowing down and dropping to his side, Tony feels it again, this sharp need to kick and punch and claw and set a world on fire to save his own if he has to. He looks over to Steve then, smirks, and says, “Did you just say _language_?”

~*~

Days later, days of planning and packing and working on the spaceship. Days later, and it's Tony and Steve. It's Tony and Steve and Natasha and Bruce and Thor and Clint. It's almost familiar, it's almost good, but not quite, there are still all these lines drawn between them but Tony thinks that they won't stop them. They are just like all the other scars they carry.

“Everything ready?” Natasha asks.

Tony nods.

“Almost,” Steve says, his hand grazing Tony's side when he walks past him and into his room.

Through the open door Tony watches as Steve stops, hesitates and then bends down to pick up his shield.

Clint huffs when Steve returns, turns away and towards the exit. “Let's fucking assemble, then.”


End file.
